The Things People Curse
by Unhobbity Hobbit
Summary: There's something fishy about a waitress, well, froggy.


A/N: Written for the challenge of "burger and fries". It... doesn't really have a point.  


The Things People Curse...

Sam eyed the fry that hung limply from his fingers suspiciously. He then eyed Dean's burger even more suspiciously.

"Dean!" he hissed as Dean took a bite out of it. Dean stopped chewing at stared at him.

"What?" Dean didn't bother to swallow his mouthful first, of course, which was probably a good thing considering the situation.

"Do you even remember what we're doing here?"

"Yeah, checking out that waitress." For once he meant that sentence in a completely innocent way.

"You remember why?" Dean continued chewing his mouthful in thought.

"Uh huh, she's been turning guys into frogs." Sam stared pointedly at the burger and watched as it slowly dawned on Dean what he was getting at. "You think it's in the burger?"

"Could be." Dean leant over the plate and spat his mouthful back out. "Dean, that's disgusting."

"Well, what do you want me to do, store it in my cheeks?" Sam huffed and dropped the fry he'd been inspecting back onto his plate. He glanced around again, checking for the waitress, just in case she was planning on disappearing before her shift was over.

"You could've just not taken the bite in the first place."

"Why did you let me order if I'm not even allowed to eat it?"

"Because two guys sitting in a diner and _not_ ordering would just be weird."

"And it's not weird that we're going to sit here for an hour without touching our food?" Dean did have a point. Except that then he picked up his coffee and Sam had to refrain from knocking it completely out of his hands. Dean could be so oblivious sometimes. "I'm not even allowed the coffee? Aw, man!" He put the cup back down and rested his chin on his hand while pushing his food around the plate with the other, like a bored five-year-old.

They sat like this for another quarter of an hour, alternating between silence and half-heartedly discussing what possible motive anyone could have for turning random guys into frogs. Eventually Dean got bored enough to pull his EMF meter out of his pocket and give his meal a once over. Nothing showed up, which wasn't surprising considering that it wasn't like the meal was meant to be haunted or anything. Dean then gave Sam's meal the once over and to Sam's utter surprise, the meter registered some kind of activity. Dean's eyebrow raised and he looked so surprised for the briefest moment that it was obvious he hadn't actually expected to find anything and was more just passing the time. Not that he'd admit that to Sam.

Wordlessly, he passed the meter to Sam so Sam could continue the investigation while he got started on his own, apparently harmless, meal. Sam peeled his burger apart, scanning each layer and quickly came to the conclusion that the offending article was a pickle. He picked it out and carefully lay it down on the side of his plate. Dean shoved a handful of fries in his mouth and then picked up the plate to get a closer look at the pickle.

"Huh," he said, "Cursed pickle, not seen that one before." He put the plate back down. "I think I might know the motive behind this one," he said knowledgeably. It would have looked much more impressive if he'd swallowed his mouthful first.

"What?" asked Sam, slightly wary of the answer, because this situation was begging for Dean to make some lame joke about it.

"She's trying to get the annoying little brother out of the way, so she can get with the handsome one." Yes, that sounded about right. Sam sighed.

"I'm sure that's it, Dean." Dean grinned, then glanced around the diner and froze, staring at something over Sam's shoulder, grin still in place. Sam turned and looked to find the waitress they were meant to be watching staring at them. Sam smiled a friendly and welcoming smile and even raised a hand in a small wave when she didn't react. Well, it was safe to say she reacted to the wave. The clatter of her tray dropping made her the centre of attention as she turned and high-tailed it out of the diner.

Sam and Dean quickly slid out of their booth and ran after her.

Half an hour later they'd followed the girl to her home and had found her stash of spell books, charms and general witchcrafty belongings, and were doing their best to destroy every last trace of them.

"So," said Dean as he threw another book on the small bonfire they had going in the back yard, "Why the whole 'turning guys into frogs' thing?" The woman shifted and folded her arms stubbornly. "Okay, then, why the whole 'turning Sam into a frog' thing?" The woman glanced up at Dean with a somewhat predatory smirk.

"He looked like he'd make a good frog." Dean's lips quirked at that, "And I wanted him out of the way." She looked up at Dean from under her eyelashes, eyebrow raised suggestively. Jesus, but Dean didn't half attract the crazy ones sometimes.

"Crazy bitch," replied Dean but his subsequent grin told Sam that he wouldn't be hearing the end of this for a long time to come.

The End.

Wasn't that fun, everyone?


End file.
